


Stay With Me

by MasterSerina83



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Implied Joshua Faraday/Vasquez - Freeform, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 08:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterSerina83/pseuds/MasterSerina83
Summary: Billy convinces Goodnight to stay instead of giving into his fears and running away the night before the battle. This is how things change when everyone is present for the whole battle. Battle and aftermath.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first story that I not only finished, but am actually posting here. I'm super late to this ship despite having seen the film when it came out. I do a lot of writing, but this is the first thing I've felt confident in posting so please be kind. This is not beta'd beyond my own proof reading and word's spelling and grammar check which everyone knows isn't perfect. So yea, please enjoy!

Goodnight stood gazing out of the window in the room he shared with Billy, not seeing anything beyond. He took a swig from his flask absently as if by reflex, in his mind all he could see were the flashes of a battlefield long since gone and he swore he could hear the hooting of an owl. He closed his eyes trying to force the images away, clenching his hands to stop the shaking. He couldn’t do this, if he fought tomorrow, he would die of this he was certain. His inability to pull the trigger would get his friends killed along with him. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let Billy die because of him. Turning away from the window he made up his mind, let them call him a coward. He would not take another man’s life just to have the Owl take his. He was reaching for his saddlebags when the door opened, and Billy walked in. In looked Goodnight over, hat and coat on one hand reaching for his saddlebags. Billy quickly shut the door locking it as he did. Goodnight sighed, hand dropping to his side. He knew Billy was giving him a hard look, the look he always gave him when he thought Goodnight was being ridiculous.

“I can’t stay here Billy, please Cher I’m trying to keep the rest of you alive. I’m no use to you tomorrow,” Goodnight said without looking up. Billy said nothing to this pronouncement, but Goodnight heard him move away from the door. Billy’s hand came into his field of view, taking hold of Goodnight’s trembling fingers. He pulled Goodnight over to the bed pushing him to sit on the edge. Goodnight could not bring himself to protest whatever Billy was planning. He kept his eyes down however, unwilling to face the pity he was sure he would see in Billy’s eyes though there had never been any before. A moment later he found Billy taking up his entire field of view as he knelt before him placing a hand under his chin and raising his head, so his eyes met Billy’s.

“Goody, leaving isn’t going to help,” Billy said softly. His calloused hand was gentle against Goodnight’s jaw, if he’d wanted to pull away, he doubted Billy would stop him. He opened his mouth to speak but Billy’s hand shifted to press his fingers to Goodnight’s lips.

“Just listen. I know you’re afraid of what may happen tomorrow, so am I. I know you think the Gods will smite you down if you take another life. I know the war haunts you; it haunts all decent men. Yes, Goody, you are a decent man, even a good one,” Billy said with a smirk as Goodnight looked to try and interrupt again.

“I am not a good man Billy, not since the war,” Goodnight whispered his breath ghosting past Billy’s fingers that still rested against his lips.

“Yes, you are because you have strived to move beyond what the war was fighting for. Would any of your fellow soldiers have befriended Sam? Would they have befriended and protected me?” Goodnight starred a moment before reluctantly shaking his head, no they would not. “You fought because it was what was expected of you as the son of a wealthy southerner. You don’t have to do that here. These people need defending more than southern commerce and ideals,” Billy said bringing both hands up to frame Goodnight’s weathered face.

“No Owl is going to take you from me, no all-seeing entity is going to take you. If they can’t see the difference between what we are trying to do here and the past then they are not very good at their jobs are they,” Billy said shifting his head, trying to get Goodnight to look him in the eyes. “I have your back Goody, do you have mine?” Goodnight met Billy’s eyes squarely for the first time that night. He didn’t see pity or disgust; he saw his partner’s love and a plea not to be left behind. How could he leave Billy to fight alone, how could he abandon Sam? He owed both his life, and it was only because of him that Billy was even here in the first place. For Billy and Sam, he could fight, death omens be damned. Goodnight brought his hands up and covered Billy’s where they framed Goodnight’s face.

“I will always have your back Cher. For you I will face down these demons you have helped me keep at bay these many years.” Goodnight pressed his forehead to Billy’s, closing his eyes.

“I will face them with you,” Billy said softly. “They only effect you this way because you are a good man, good men have the worst demons.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because you truly regret the lives you’ve taken.” Goodnight had never considered this point of view.

“I love you Billy Rocks,” Goodnight said releasing a breath that seemed to release the pressure on his chest he’d been living with sin the war ended.

“I know, I’m hard not to,” Billy said letting the wolfish grin, that only Goodnight got to see, slide across his face. Goodnight pulled Billy forward until their mouths met, he poured everything he could into the kiss trying to impart without words how much Billy meant to him. In the back of his mind he was still afraid, afraid that the real angel of death would come for them. Or worse he would take everything from Goodnight and leave him alive to face this world and his guilt alone. But with Billy by his side Goodnight could for the first time finally get a firm handle on those fears. Something still troubled him greatly, however.

“What if I can’t pull the trigger Billy,” he said suddenly breaking the kiss.

“Then I’ll hand you one of my knives.”

“You have an answer for everything Cher.” Goodnight kissed him again, holding Billy closer. They clung to each other for a few more minutes before Billy pulled away.

“I was supposed to bring you downstairs for a final planning session,” he said standing up from his crouched position.

“Nah, they don’t need us Cher,” Goodnight said back to his charming self again, the melancholy pushed away for the moment. It would be back, Billy was sure, but hopefully not until after tomorrow.

Downstairs the seven gathered around one of the larger tables. Sam watched Goodnight descend the stairs chatting with Billy. He’d been afraid Billy would come back alone; Goodnight having run unable to fight his demons. Sam nodded to them as they sat down, on the table lay a crude map of Rose Creek with ‘X’s marked where one of them would need to be.

“All right, chime in if you want something different, but this is the plan. Jack and Billy are in the trenches, Faraday you’re on the edge of town here,” Sam pointed to the X where they had rigged the whiskey bottle explosive. Faraday nodded, lighting a thin cigar. “Red, you’re on the rooftops. Vasquez the barn. Goodnight I need you in the bell tower.” Goodnight had expected this position, but it still filled him with dread. It was the highest point in town but easily the most exposed next to being out in the fields or high street.

“We’ll need to fortify it,” Goodnight said leaning forward.

“We piled sandbags up there earlier, replaced and shored up some of the burned boards, even rehung the bell,” Sam said. Goodnight hummed, acknowledging Sam’s words as an idea crept into his head at the mention of the bell.

“They’ll be coming from the south yes?” Goodnight asked. “Near as we can figure.”

“Better be or those trenches and traps will be for naught,” Faraday said around his ever-present cigar.

“That bell is cast iron, would stop a lot of bullets,” Goodnight mused aloud still gazing out the window at the church down the road.

“You want to fashion a bell into a shield?” Sam asked eyebrow raised.

“More of a bulkhead, but yes. We know they’re bringing an army; we need to use everything at our disposal to survive this.”

“I’ll let you and Billy finagle the bell. Any other improvisations you all want to make, make them now,” Sam said letting his gaze sweep over everyone. The others nodded, but no one immediately moved. Billy stood first and walked over to Goodnight, they would take care of the bell tower. The preacher watched them pass into his church as he continued his candle lit prayer service. Goodnight stepped over and whispered the plan to him, the preacher nodded to him hardly pausing in his sermon. The congregation watched curiously but no one said anything.

It took them the better part of the night, but they finally managed to rig up a sling of sorts to hold bell between the tower occupants and the open southern fields. They spent time reinforcing the timber as well making the front section as fortified as they could. Around midnight they descended from the church steeple and made their way back to the saloon. The others were still awake, waiting on them it would seem. Sam raised an eyebrow in question at Goody.

“It’s not perfect, but it will hold and hopefully provide some cover. Or the Blackstones will play a pretty song o it as we die.” Goodnight said with a shrug.

“Jesus Goody,” Billy said with an exasperated sigh.

\----------------------------

The next morning came far too soon for Goodnight’s liking. The seven rose just as the sun lightened the sky and got everyone in position. The children were hidden down in the general store’s cellar with their mothers. A selection of men led by Emma took up positions on the saloon’s balcony. The seven scattered to their assigned positions taking their contingents of townsfolk and miners with them. Goodnight pulled Billy into the shadowed doorway of the church, if anyone saw they didn’t say, and Goodnight didn’t really care.

“Be careful Cher, once that dynamite goes, I won’t be able to see you,” Goodnight said in a hushed voice. Billy nodded against his shoulder and hugged him tighter.

“I’ll join you as soon as I can,” Billy said as he pulled away.

“You’d better, I like having you where I can see you.” Goodnight squeezed Billy’s hand once more before letting go. Billy stepped out of the church into the morning sun and followed Jack and the others to the trenches. Goodnight hauled himself up into the bell tower and made himself ready. He double checked that both his Winchester 73 and the spare rifle taken from one of the dead Blackstones were loaded and ready to go. His colt was loaded and ready as well, but he wouldn’t need that unless he left the tower, or some poor fool tried to ambush him up here. His hands shook ever so slightly as he gripped his rifle. This was not the rifle from Antietam, he reminded himself. He was not in Antietam or anywhere else in the war, he was in Rose Creek and there were good men and women counting on him to master his demons if only for today. The shaking in his hands subsided and he took a deep breath, he could be the Angel of Death one last time. He crouched against the bell and took out an old battered spyglass, extending it he began to scan the southern horizon for any sign of Bogue and his men.

The sun had crested the mountain peaks when Goodnight saw the first sign of Bogue’s men. Through his spyglass Goodnight counted at least a hundred men. He ducked down behind his bell bulkhead and sent up a silent prayer. There was no turning back now. It took some time before he heard the thunder of hoof beats. Goodnight re-situated himself so he could watch Bogue’s first wave of men come thundering across the field. They drew closer and closer, Goodnight watched as the first horses passed where he knew the pin wheels to be.

**BOOM! **

Billy and Jack’s count was impeccable. Their first set of charges went off sending men and horses flying. Goodnight shut his eyes for a moment willing the memories of war back down into the depths of his mind, Billy and the others needed him to have a clear head. He could do this. Below him in the field guns fired and men screamed. Goodnight trained his rifle on the dust cloud and waited for it to clear. The silhouette of a man on horseback was an easy target. Goodnight didn’t allow himself to think, he aimed and fired before ducking back down again. He heaved a few quick breaths, he could do this, to keep his friends and lover safe he could do this. He popped up again, the dust below had settled considerably, and the enemy targets were easier to pick out. He fired three quick shots, downing three men on horseback. On the high street he saw Sam dealing with Blackstones that had gotten past the trenches. On the far side of town Faraday’s first charge went up. In the short time since the battle had begun, they’d felled a good number of Bogue’s men, but many of their own had gone down as well. Goodnight kept firing, providing cover as men from the trenches pulled back to the town line. Faraday’s second charge went, and Goodnight saw him come running a moment later.

Pivoting between the field to the south and the high street had Goodnight exhausted. However, the physical exertion kept him focused. On one pivot he watched Sam do some fancy riding, using his horse as a shield, he shot three or four gunmen. On another pivot he saw Billy take out two more as he dove off a porch. Everything seemed to be going their way, the Blackstones had clearly not expected this. Goodnight allowed himself to hope for just a moment that they might just pull this off. He swung his rifle back to the south and stopped cold, his hands shaking again. There on the hill, down about a hundred feet from Bogue, stood 12 men surrounding a newly revealed Gatling Gun. Goodnight dropped down against the bell and sandbags, gripping his rifle hard his knuckles white. His focus lost for just a moment as gunshots rang out below. Billy, he thought, I must warn Billy.

The Gatling Gun had not yet started to fire. Goodnight stood up and looked down the high street for one of the seven. He could see below him where the others had gathered; Faraday, Billy, and Vasquez taking momentary shelter in the Church, firing from the windows and doorway. Sam was farther up the street firing from the saloon.

“Sam!” He called, his voice cracking with the force he was putting into it. “Sam, they’ve got the Devil’s breath! They’ve got a goddamned Gatling Gun!” As he called out to Sam, he saw from the corner of his eye Faraday take a bullet to the side. Before Goodnight could do anything, Vasquez had already flown in unloading several shots into the Blackstone who, as he fell dead into a conveniently placed coffin, appeared to be McCann Bogue’s right-hand man. The outlaw turned and helped the gambler to his feet, supporting him through the church door.

“Get inside! They’re loading right now! Get inside, get down.” Goodnight called to the others. He saw Billy turn and look up at him for a moment then look where Goodnight pointed. In another moment the coiled energy that was Billy sprang for the Church, waving at others to follow. Billy was almost to the church door when a Blackstone stepped out of an alley and took aim at Billy’s back.

“No!” Goodnight cried, bringing his rifle to bear. He fired as soon as he had the Blackstone in his sights, but the bastard had managed to squeeze off a shot. Billy staggered the last few steps into the church and crashed into the door frame, hand clutching his left side. Goodnight swore as he rained down cover for the remaining men making for the church. Their luck might not be holding after all. Behind him he heard someone pulling themselves through the trap door. He turned to see Billy flop down on the sandbags, bloody fingers clutching his left side. Goodnight reached out to him as the air filled with the unmistakable sound of the Gatling Gun firing. Goodnight crouched over Billy, putting himself between Billy and the gun. In the two minutes the gun was firing nothing hit the bell. This told Goodnight that either he had gone unnoticed or they didn’t care enough to try and hit a lone gunman. Preferring to riddle the town with bullet holes to hit more targets. As the gun stopped firing Goodnight lifted himself away from Billy, keeping one hand on his shoulder. He peaked over the side of the steeple in time to see Faraday and Sam heading for the General Store. Smoke was creeping out from its broken windows, the bullets from the Gatling Gun must have impacted something to cause a small fire. He watched for another moment, long enough to see the children running across the street with their minders heading for the northern fields. He cast his gaze to the southern field where the Gatling Gun was being reloaded, the men manning it scanning for any sort of movement. Carefully Goodnight lowered his head away from the walls edge and looked down at Billy. The Korean was pale and taking shallow breaths through his nose, eyes closed.

“Billy, god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t fast enough,” Goodnight said in a pained whisper.

“I’ll live Goody, they were a terrible shot,” Billy said opening his eyes and offering Goodnight a brief smile. He reached out with the hand not holding his side and grasped Goodnight’s briefly. Goodnight squeezed Billy’s hand in return before letting go and reaching into his inner vest pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He folded the fabric quickly until it resembled a thick square of cloth. He pulled Billy’s hand away from his side and unbuttoned his vest, Goodnight pressed his handkerchief against the wound. Billy hissed at the pressure applied to his side, the hand that had gripped Goodnight’s a moment ago moved to grasp his forearm as Billy took several deep breaths through his nose.

“Keep a hand on that,” Goody said bringing a hand up to cup Billy’s jaw gently. Billy hummed in acknowledgement shaking his head to clear it. Goodnight sighed and looked back in the direction of the Gatling gun without peaking over the bell.

“They see movement they’re gonna start firing again,” Goodnight said more to himself than to Billy.

“What do we do Goody?” Billy asked. Goodnight chewed his lip for a moment eyes glancing between the direction of the gun and the rest of the town. It had surely been enough time for Sam and Faraday to have gotten the kids out. The silence would not last long as there were surely Blackstones still moving about looking for them. In his mind the ever-present owl rustled its feathers and gave him a look as if to say ‘well’? Goodnight closed his eyes and exhaled hard before he was moving again. He descended the bell tower halfway and called to Vasquez.

“Vasquez, keep everyone quiet, get them out through the far window. The Gat is at the far end of my range, but I can get some of them. As soon as they see movement they’ll start firing. Get out and swing around the far side, if they’re looking at me, they may not see you,” Goodnight said this quickly with command and urgency. Vasquez didn’t question him and started moving everyone to the farthest window on the north side.

“Be careful gentlemen,” Goodnight said before going back up the steeple. “You should go with the others,” he said to Billy once he made it back up. Billy eyed him sharply.

“Baegchi,” Billy said with exasperation. While Goodnight’s Korean was about as good as Billy’s French, he did at least recognize that word.

“Now no call for name calling,” Goodnight drawled. He moved back to his position behind the bell and brought the rifle over the top. Moving slowly and with precision he adjusted his sights and the angle of the barrel to compensate for the distance. Taking a deep breath in he released it slowly as he pulled the trigger. The man closest to the Church in the Gatling Gun’s entourage fell forward. The Gatling Gun operator looked around, startled. With as little movement as possible Goodnight pumped the rifle. He fired again, one of the horsemen neat the gun wagon went down. Goodnight adjusted the sights again bringing the gunner into line. Below him some of the remaining horsemen that had tried to coral their men into the church were getting wise to something going on. Goodnight squeezed off another shot, the gunner went down, but another took his place. This one swung the gun towards the church. Goodnight ducked down as the gun started firing. He could hear the shots penetrating the structure below before they started pinging off the bell. Goodnight looked over at Billy with a grin.

“They do play a pretty song eh Cher?”

“Very pretty Goody,” Billy said rolling his eyes, but he returned Goodnight’s grin. The gun stopped firing before Goodnight knew it should have been out. He reloaded his spent shot and peaked over the bell.

“Shit, Billy get over here,” Goodnight said quickly. He stood up and moved to the side firing rapidly. One shot for the Gat wagon, one shot for the Blackstone riders that had started to gallop on an intercept course of lone rider charging the gun from the far side.

“Take care of the riders,” Goodnight said as Billy got into position crouched behind the bell. Goody focused again on the wagon as Billy fired down at the riders.

It happened very quickly, Goodnight felled another Blackstone working the Gat’s crank and was taking aim at the next person to step up when he felt the impact of hot lead. The previous gunner’s final shots had hit their mark. Goody stumbled back as three large bullets impacted his chest. His foot caught on something and he lost his balance crashing into and through the low wall on the other side of the steeple.

He doesn’t remember the fall, hitting the roof and tumbling down. He remembers Billy’s cry of “Goody!” as he went over and he remembers hitting the ground. There was a crack and the whole world went white with the new pain compounded on the pain of the bullet wounds. It seemed like forever, but the world came back into focus just long enough for him to see Billy’s ashen face peering down at him from here he fell off the steeple. Goodnight tried to raise a hand, to tell Billy he was still alive, but everything hurt. Goodnight succumbed to the darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision and knew no more.

\-----------------------

Darkness swirled around Goodnight and he couldn’t tell what was up or down. His body felt lighter than it ever had. He looked around, floating in the nothingness.

“Hello,” He called. He heard nothing in response, not even an echo. He looked down expecting to see his body broken and riddled with bullet holes, but he found himself clean and whole. His old grey coat was gone, as was his waistcoat. He wore only trousers and a clean cotton shirt. He floated in that eternal nothingness for what felt like an eternity. He called out several times with still no answer. After a while he started talking to himself as much to hear his own voice as to fight off the niggling’s of panic.

“If I’m dead and this is the afterlife someone has a lot of explaining to do,” he said at one point after who knew how long.

“You’re not dead Goodnight Robicheaux. Not yet at least,” a voice said suddenly. If Goodnight had been standing, he is sure he would have fallen over. Goodnight craned his neck trying to locate the source of the voice.

“Who said that? Who’s there?” Goodnight asked looking around frantically. The darkness remained unchanged around him, he kept turning his head this way and that. As he looked around, between one moment and the next, where there had been nothing suddenly an owl appeared before him seemingly perched on nothing. Goodnight let out an undignified screech shriek and tried to back away from the creature. His arms wheeled but no distance was gained. The owl cocked its head at him.

“Are you done?” The same voice said. Though the owl did not move Goodnight got the impression that the voice had come from this creature that had haunted him.

“What do you want?” Goodnight asked, voice shaking.

“To talk, I usually only shepherd the dead along, but you are not yet dead,” the owl said. Its yellow eyes were piercing, but not unkind.

“So, you said, then why am I here?”

“You sustained quite a number of injuries. If it were anyone else, you would be dead. But you, Goodnight Robicheaux, have earned a second chance.”

“Begging your pardon, but I don’t see how. I expected to die defending Rose Creek. If that is what’s happened if my friends are all right, I will take whatever comes next,” Goodnight said casting his eyes downwards. His thoughts went to Billy and the last image he had of him. If he was safe, then Goodnight could be content.

“Your friends live, as do you Goodnight.”

“Then why are you here, you who have haunted me since Antietam.”

“At Antietam you took the lives of 23 people. Men on both sides were taking lives for a war they didn’t believe in. The only honor there is that you were only defending your men. It is only a small plus.” The owl shifted on its invisible perch; eyes unblinking as if they stared into his soul.

“At Rose Creek you saved more lives than can be counted. Even though you were afraid, sure that my presence in your dreams meant your death. And it would have if you had taken a life needlessly.”

“What are you saying?” Goodnight asked, hardly allowing himself to hope.

“You have redeemed yourself to me Goodnight Robicheaux. I will no longer dog your every step. Make peace with your past and live in the now, thinking only of your future.” The great owl spread its wings wide and the darkness around them began to grow lighter though no new light source could be seen. As the owl began to flap its wings the seemingly source less voice rang forth again.

“Your love has been anxiously waiting for you to awaken.”

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?” Goodnight asked, but no answer came as the owl and darkness vanished with blinding light.

\-----------------

Goodnight became aware of the world around him slowly. It faded in and out over the course of a few days. He was only semi-aware of the passage of time by the snippets of conversation he would hear and how much light there appeared to be in whatever room he was in. During one of his semi lucid periods he heard Sam talking to Billy who he later surmised had not left his side the whole time he had been out.

“You have to get some sleep Billy. He’s not going anywhere,” Sam said his voice soft. There was movement nest to his left-hand, which Goodnight only now realized was clasped in a death grip. He figured Billy had his head on the bed and was shaking it ‘no.’ Sam sighed.

“If I bring you up some food will you at least eat?” Another pause and movement nest to him. “All right, I’ll bring up some of the stew Mrs. Cullen just made.” There was the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing. Goodnight didn’t know if Billy ate the stew, slipping back into unconscious oblivion a few minutes later. He had a few more semi-conscious moments like this before he finally managed to open his eyes and kick his brain into gear.

It was early morning when Goodnight’s eyes finally fluttered open. He glanced around the unfamiliar room; sun was creeping through the window on the far wall. After taking stock of his surroundings Goodnight looked down at himself and by extension Billy. His beautiful brave Billy, his head resting on their clasped hands eyes closed and breathing deep and even with sleep. Goodnight tried to raise his free hand but that made his shoulder protest in pain. He gave a muffled grunt of pain looking away from Billy reluctantly. He looked instead at his torso, the blanket was pulled up to only his waist, his chest and stomach were heavily wrapped in bandages. Beneath the blanket his left leg was oddly shaped and stiff. Goodnight tried to wiggle his toes; he could just manage it. He assumed the odd shaping was a splint, he must have broken his leg. It made sense, he had fallen a good thirty feet and he wasn’t exactly a young man anymore. He could see three distinct places where his wounds had bled through. One on his abdomen, one at his right shoulder, and one so close to his heart he marveled at how he was still alive.

Gingerly he attempted to lift his right arm again using the uninjured part of his torso as support. He looked back at Billy, who must have been exhausted if Goodnight’s movements and soft noises hadn’t woken him. Or the sunshine that was now filling the room. Finally, after what seemed like ages Goodnight managed to thread his fingers through Billy’s raven locks, free form the hair pin for a change. He carded his fingers through Billy’s hair for several minutes just enjoying the sensation of knowing his love was alive. That a gunshot wound on his side hadn’t take him from this world.

Beneath his hand Billy began to stir. He sighed in his sleep and pressed into Goodnight’s fingers making contented humming sounds. Goodnight smiled, content in letting Billy up in his own time, and loathe to stop touching him. The hand gripping his tightened and Billy inhaled sharply. Goodnight’s hand stopped, fingers wrapped in the black strands, and waited. Billy’s eyes snapped open and he sat up dislodging Goodnight’s hand. Billy’s eyes searched Goodnight’s face, their eyes locking after a moment, Goodnight offered him a weak smile.

“Morning Cher,” he croaked. His throat was dry, and his mouth felt like cotton. Billy didn’t say anything for a long moment, instead bringing his hand up to caress Goodnight’s face.

“Goody,” Billy said finally, his voice breaking into a sob. He buried his face in Goodnight’s neck, moving from the chair to the bed, babbling in a broken mix of Korean and English. Goodnight brought his free hand up cupping Billy’s neck holding him close. He didn’t catch everything Billy was saying, but the general idea seemed to be that Goodnight was not allowed to scare him like that again.

“Shh Cher, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m all right,” Goodnight said softly. He ran his hand up and down Billy’s spine until Billy seemed to calm. It was the first time he had ever seen Billy lose any control over himself, it made him wonder how long Billy had been waiting for him to wake up.

“How long Billy,” Goodnight asked when the other man had composed himself to pull back. Billy swiped the remaining tears away roughly seemingly annoyed at their presence.

“Week and a half,” Billy said, his accent thicker than usual.

“Oh,” was all Goodnight could say. There was a pause as they continue to look at each other. Goodnight took in Billy’s appearance now that the other man was sitting up. His hair fell loose around his face and he was wearing a shirt that was too large for him and Goodnight was pretty sure was in fact his and not Billy’s. He had dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep Goodnight assumed. Otherwise he looked no worse than the last time Goody had seen him. The image of Billy’s stricken face looking down at him from the bell tower flashed in his mind.

“And the others, is everyone else all right?” Goodnight asked trying to push the memory of his fall from the tower away.

“Sam got away unscathed, Red too. Horne took several arrows to varying parts of his body, but Bogue’s pet Comanche was a terrible shot. Horne will live, he’s up and moving around already. Vasquez caught a round from the Gat in his left arm but nothing else. He didn’t even get confined to the infirmary.” Billy frowned at that and Goodnight chuckled. “Faraday charged the gun with a stick of dynamite. That blew just after you fell, he took more bullets than you did plus some burns from the explosion and still woke up before you.” Here Billy scowled at him as if Goodnight had intentionally taken his sweet time to wake up. Goodnight gave him his most winning smile, but Billy just raised an eyebrow.

“Well now Cher, you have to remember he’s a younger man. Young as I may look you love an old man,” Goodnight said with all the southern charm he could muster. Billy’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile and ultimately failed.

“I know,” Billy said leaning forward and placing a kiss on Goodnight’s lips. He may have intended for it to be short and sweet, but Goodnight deepened the kiss caressing Billy’s face and dancing his tongue around Billy’s. Billy moaned and leaned into Goodnight’s hand for a moment before pulling away reluctantly. He pressed his forehead to Goodnight’s attempting to get his breathing back under control.

“Behave old man,” Billy said after a moment. Goodnight grinned at him and shook his head.

“Never.” Billy shook his head and sighed. He sat back up on the edge of the bed with a groan, hand going briefly to his side. Goodnight frowned noticing Billy’s moment of discomfort.

“And you Cher, how did you fair?”

“No worse than when you last saw me,” Billy said with a reassuring smile. Goodnight still looked concerned, so Billy elaborated. “Doc said I was out for about a day. The bullet just hit muscle, through and through.”

“What happened after I fell?” Goodnight asked after a moment’s pause.

“We won,” Billy said simply but knowing Goodnight wanted to know all that he had missed Billy began to tell him everything he remembered.

Billy’s POV – Flashback

Billy watched in horror as the bullets struck Goodnight sending him careening backwards. He crashed through the low wall they hadn’t thought to put more boards on. Billy dropped the rifle and lunged for Goodnight’s falling form.

“Goody!” He cried trying desperately to grab the other man, but he was just out of reach. He scrambled over to where Goodnight had fallen through keeping low in case of stray bullets. Below him in the church’s small graveyard lay Goodnight. His leg lay at an unnatural angle surely broken, but he was alive. Billy could just see Goodnight’s eyes move and meet his. He tried to raise a hand, but it fell back to his chest as he passed out. The panic rising in Billy’s chest eased only slightly at seeing Goodnight initially alive but now it ramped up again as Goodnight’s body went slack. He had either passed out or…. But Billy didn’t want to even fathom the other option. Goodnight was going to be all right, the sharpshooter had no choice. Billy pulled himself up from his prone position very gingerly, hand pressed to the wound on his side. Over in the field there was another explosion. Billy glanced over and saw the dirt and debris that had been the Gatling Gin come raining back down to earth. At least that problem had been solved. As quickly as Billy’s injury would let him, he climbed down out of the bell tower. The church was empty as appeared the street also. Not wanting to risk being seen by some hidden Blackstone, or even Bogue himself at this point, Billy made his way to the far window facing the graveyard. Climbing through it with less than his usual grace he found himself outside, Goodnight lying some 15 feet from him. Billy traversed the short distance quickly keeping his pistol ready in case any adversaries spring from any hiding places.

He fell to his knees next to Goodnight’s still form and let the gun fall from his fingers. Desperately he searched for a pulse, cursing Goodnight’s fancy cravat that was in his way. He released a breath that he would deny later was a sob of relief when he felt the slow thud of Goodnight’s pulse. He pushed Goodnight’s hair away from his forehead leaving a trail of blood smeared there. Billy bent forward and placed an ear near Goodnight’s mouth, a pulse meant nothing if the man wasn’t breathing. After a moment Billy felt the soft puffs of breath caress his cheek and heard the slight wheeze as Goodnight fought to live. Pulling back Billy undid the bandanna that was still around his neck, he folded it and placed it against the first wound he saw. As he was untying Goodnight’s cravat, he heard men behind him. He stilled for a moment then slowly reached for the pistol he had let fall to the ground. At the sound of gunshots and breaking glass he spun around cocking the pistol, but there was no one there. A moment later he saw Sam come waltzing out of the undertakers, gun in hand. Billy was about to call out to him but stopped himself, something about the way Sam was presenting himself had Billy thinking they were not alone. He waited until he heard another man’s voice, this was clearly the endgame. Billy set the gun down again, ignoring what was going on in front of the church. His only concern was Goodnight, if Sam failed then none of it would matter anyway. Billy worked feverously to stem the flow of blood from Goodnight’s wounds, using first the cravat then his own handkerchief. As he pressed the fabric to the wound too close to Goodnight’s heart there was the crack of a rifle. Billy reached down and grasped Goodnight's hand, whether they had won or lost he wasn’t leaving Goodnight’s side. He could feel the adrenaline leaving his system, darkness was gathering at the edges of his vision. He looked over to the street beyond the graveyard and saw some of the townspeople begin to gather there. He saw Sam looking around at them then turn as if he felt Billy’s eyes on him. As their eyes met Billy felt the last of his strength leave him and darkness filled his vision as he collapsed forward joining Goodnight in oblivion.

Billy found out later what had happened after he had passed out. Sam and the other mostly uninjured members of the seven had gotten Billy, Goodnight, Horne, and Faraday to the Cullen farm. There the doctor had come every day, staying the night on some occasions, and tended to the wounded saviors of Rose Creek. Faraday and Goodnight had been the worst injured and the Doc said numerous times it was nothing short of a miracle that they were alive at all. Billy, he patched up easily and let him sleep. Sam had been sitting with him when Billy awoke, disorientated but in minimal pain.

“Easy Billy,” Sam said moving to sit next to him on the bed. Billy took a moment to focus on Sam’s face before he spoke.

“Goody?” he asked mouth and throat just a touch too dry.

“He’s right over there,” Sam said pointing to Billy’s right. Billy turned his head slowly to see Goodnight resting in the bed next to him only 6 feet away. His torso was almost completely wrapped in bandages, but Billy could see it move with each breath that Goodnight took. Billy made to get up, to go inspect Goodnight up close but Sam pushed him back down.

“Now hold on a minute Mr. Rocks, just wait for the doc to come give you a once over. Goodnight’s not going anywhere,” Sam said one hand pressed to Billy’s shoulder. Billy scowled at him but allowed himself to be pushed back down to the mattress. Instead he pressed Sam for everything that had happened since he had passed out. Sam told him everything that had happened, how the others were doing and how many the town had lost. During his tale the doc arrived, Sam stepped aside to let the doctor have clearer access to Billy and his bandages. Billy said nothing as the old country doctor prattled on, just watched impassively which didn’t seem to faze the doc any.

“You’ll be right as rain here in no time son. Take it easy for the rest of the day then you can get up and move about the house tomorrow. No manual labor though for a while even then, don’t need to tear my fine stitches,” the doctor said after his examination. Still Billy said nothing so Sam assured the doc that Billy would behave himself. Sam walked the doctor to the door asking about the others in their group. The doctor prattled on some more as he and Sam exited into the hallway. Billy took the opportunity to slide out of his bed and commandeer the chair Sam had been sitting in. His side ached as he sat up, but Billy ignored it, moving carefully he grabbed the chair and moved it, so it was right up against Goodnight’s bed. He was just getting himself comfortable, leaning against the mattress with Goodnight’s hand clasped between his, when Sam came back in the room. The other man raised an eyebrow at Billy’s changed position, Billy starred right back unflinching.

“Not sure that’s what the doc had in mind,” Sam said eventually. Billy just shrugged and turned his head, so he was watching Goodnight’s face. Sam huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head he raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll bring some dinner up for you later.”

And so, the week progressed, Billy sat unmoving at Goodnight’s side except to readjust position. Sam stopped by several times a day when he wasn’t with the others or helping to mend the town. He talked and Billy listened never taking his eyes away from Goodnight. Some days he tried to insist that Billy go back to lying in his own bed for a spell, that Sam would sit with Goodnight, but Billy always refused. There had been a few times Billy was sure Goodnight was about to open his eyes, but the Cajun always just sighed and slept on. Of course, Billy had to sleep at some point and of course Goodnight would choose the early morning to finally awaken while Billy slept with his head pillowed next to Goodnight’s hip on the mattress.

End Flashback

When Billy had finished his retelling of the week Goodnight had missed the older Cajun threaded his fingers through Billy’s and brought the other man’s hand to his lip. They stayed silent for several long moments with Goodnight’s thumb stroking the back of Billy’s hand. After a moment he pulled gently at Billy until the other man slid onto the mattress and laid down next to him. Goody traced over Billy’s features with his free hand unsure of how to proceed with their conversation.

“I’m sorry Cher,” he said at last. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake up sooner. I hate that I caused you anxiety.” Billy pressed into Goodnight’s hand turning to brush his lips over Goodnight’s palm.

“I’ve seen a lot of things Goody, you know that, not a lot has scared me. There’s not much that can live up to the sheer terror of crossing the ocean alone at 13, but seeing you so still for so long when I know what you usually look like asleep? That surpassed crossing the ocean, I would rather go through that whole journey again than to see you so still.” Billy’s voice was barely above a whisper and Goodnight could see tears escaping from his closed eyes. Goodnight pulled him close until he was all but laying on the bed; ignoring the protests of his healing wounds, and pressed his lips to Billy’s forehead. Goodnight fought tears of his own, everything was so raw their emotions so close to the surface. Of course, they were, it was the closest either of them had come to losing the other. Even with all the quickdraws and boxing fights there had never been the fear that they both wouldn’t return to the saloon or boarding house.

“I have come through the fire many times mon Cher, in the ashes I have found you and I refuse to lose you. The owl has given me a second chance and you and I are going to make the best of it,” Goodnight said, voice low in Billy’s ear.

“Goody, again with the owl?” Billy said with an exhausted sigh. He rested his head on Goodnight's chest, carefully arranging himself to not apply any pressure to Goodnight's wounds.

“Only once more love, I had a dream while I slept. Or perhaps it was something more than a dream but, in any case, I can move forward in life without fear of the owl.” Goodnight said with confidence. At Billy’s look of confusion Goodnight explained to him what he could remember of the dream. At the end Billy still looked a little skeptical but after a moment he reached up and caressed Goodnight’s cheek. Goodnight knew that Billy had never believed in the owl, that it was a subconscious product of Goodnight’s self-inflicted guilt. But in this moment, Goodnight could see his belief in him, different from the confidence he always saw in Billy’s eyes.

“Then we shall live our life free of the past until we are too old to ride,” Billy said leaning up and capturing Goodnight’s lips in a kiss. Goodnight would have deepened the kiss if he had not heard the tread of a boot at the door. He stiffened for a moment, old instincts kicking in ready to relinquish his hold on Billy if the doorknob moved.

“Relax, it’s Sam,” Billy said softly. Goodnight noticed the other man didn’t bother to get up and just settled closer, stretching out until he lay against Goodnight's side, eyes drooping closed for a moment.

“How can you be sure.”

“Because he’s the only one that comes up here this early and he learned very quickly not to come in without some kind of warning first,” Billy said as the door opened his eyes still closed. Goodnight looked confused for a moment before he looked to where Sam stood framed in the doorway.

“Well it’s about time,” Sam said with a grin, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “We were starting to worry you would never wake up.”

“Hello to you too Sam,” Goodnight said a smile creeping across his lips. Sam crossed the room and took the chair Billy had so recently occupied. He didn’t even bat an eye at Billy’s form pressed to Goodnight’s side. Goodnight had never told Sam explicitly about where his affections tended to lie but he got the feeling that the other man had known all along and did not appear to care.

“He finally getting some sleep?” Sam asked.

“He is not,” Billy said, face still pressed into Goodnight’s neck. Goodnight smirked looking down at the dark head next to him as best he could. Technically he was still flat on his back and as wonderful as it was to have Billy pressed into his side, he had the sudden need to sit up.

“Will either of you two help me sit up some,” Goodnight asked looking over at Sam.

“I’d rather the doc come take a look at you first before we do much moving of your person,” Sam said sitting forward. He rested his hand on Goodnight’s splinted leg as if to remind the Cajun that he was not exactly the picture of health. Goody huffed a sigh but didn’t press the issue.

“Speaking of the doc, that’s why I came up to see if Billy was awake so the doc could come up. The last time we didn’t check and just let the doc walk in he nearly got a knife to the chest.”

“He shouldn’t have startled me,” Billy said sitting up and pulling away from Goody. Goodnight made a sound of protest when Billy broke all contact and moved over to the other bed.

“Just until the doc’s done, he’s not as enlightened as Sam and the others are.” Goodnight scowled, but made no other protests. Sam stood and left the room heading back downstairs to gather the doc who had just arrived. Goodnight turned to look over at Billy again while they waited.

“You attacked the doctor?”

“Not on purpose, you’d think a man educated enough to be a doctor would know to knock before coming into a room that holds people who have recently be in a fight,” Billy said leaning back on the bed with a smirk.

“And that’s why Sam makes a noise before coming in?”

“Yes and no, he made the same mistake not long before the doctor did. In his case the knife never got thrown because I was awake enough to recognize him. The doctor was not so lucky, but lucky enough that I was half asleep and I missed my throw.” Goodnight chuckled softly but stopped with a grimace when the wound in his abdomen twinged painfully. Billy frowned and made to get up and move back over to him when they heard the voices of Sam and another man in the hallway. Billy settled back on the bed fixing the door with a casual stare, moments later the door opened again, and Sam led an older gentleman into the room.

“Good morning Mr. Rocks,” the man, whom Goodnight could only assume was the doctor, said nodding warily to Billy. He turned and looked to Goodnight and a pleased smile touched his lips. “Ah, Mr. Robicheaux back with us I see. Glad to see you awake finally, I was beginning to think all my hard work was in vain. I was telling Mr. Chisolm just yesterday if you didn’t wake up soon, we’d have to find a way to get nutrients in you by force.”

“Well I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” Goodnight said with a polite smile. Sam moved around the bed and sat in the chair observing the other occupants quietly. Goodnight noticed that the doctor didn’t move around the bed but instead kept Goodnight between himself and Billy. Goodnight glanced over as the doctor was sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling up his black bag and saw Billy smirking at him. He was very aware how apprehensive he made the doctor, and it amused Goodnight no end.

Over the course of the next half hour the doctor, who introduced himself as Doctor James Willingham, checked Goodnight over. He replaced the bandages with new ones after a thorough inspection. After a listen to heart and lungs and finding no sign of infection Willingham moved on to Goodnight’s broken leg.

“It was a clean break thankfully,” Willingham said as he inspected the splinted left leg, he knelt on the bed at Goody’s right side still refusing to get any closer to Billy than he had to. With probing fingers, the doctor inspected the whole leg from the hip bone above the initial break all the way down to the ankle, asking Goody to wiggle his toes if he could and if there was any discomfort where he probed. The leg seemed to be well on the mend, but the splint would remain for some time to ensure the bone mended strong.

“I’ll send round some crutches later this week, until then you are to remain in bed. Even after they arrive, I want you off that leg 90% of the day, a broken leg can still kill you especially if you re-break it,” Doctor Willingham said sternly.

“I understand Doctor, but might I at least sit up? Being flat on my back is becoming rather uncomfortable,” Goodnight asked shifting slightly.

“I’ll allow that, we’ll scrounge up an extra pillow or two to prop you up and get you situated before I leave. I still need to check in on Mr. Faraday and Mr. Horne. I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Robicheaux, it is no short of a miracle that all of you are alive after everything.”

“And I am more than thankful for that miracle,” Goodnight said shaking the Doctor’s hand as he stood. Willingham nodded to Sam, glancing fearfully at Billy and left the room. Sam rolled his eyes at Billy who had collapsed back on his bed laughing quietly. After a moment he straightened up and grabbed the pillow off his own bed before returning to Goodnight’s side.

“Let’s get you up Goody,” he said softly. With Sam’s help they lift Goodnight’s shoulders and arrange the pillows behind him so he would no longer have to crane his neck to see around the room. His wounds throbbed at the new position, but they soon adjusted. Goodnight sighed as he settled into the new position nodding his thanks to the two men.

“Breakfast should be ready by now, I’ll run down and grab something for you gentlemen,” Sam said once Goodnight was settled. He nodded to them both and left the room closing the door behind him. Billy sat down on the edge of the bed taking Goodnight’s hand again.

“Well Cher, it appears I shall be a resident of the bed for some time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Billy said simply.

Over the next several weeks Goodnight mended, a few days after waking up he could move his right arm and shoulder with no pain. All three of his wounds were healing nicely and soon he barely noticed them at all. Through it all Billy stayed at his side, helping him with everything from basic hygiene to getting down the stairs when he had finally been released from bed rest. The other members of their ragtag band had visited on occasion as well keeping the two men company in the evenings, bringing news and gossip from the town of Rose Creek. On one of these occasions Jack brought up a wish to remain in Rose Creek, having taken a liking to one Lani Frankel, the kind woman who had mended his hide jacket. That led to a discussion of what the others wanted to do once everyone was well enough to travel. Faraday and Vasquez had decided to stay together having formed a close bond during their time here in Rose Creek. Goodnight and Billy exchanged a knowing glance as Faraday spoke about his plans with Vasquez, a close bond indeed. Red Harvest had no immediate plans but was glad to stay with the group if they would have him, he admitted to not really wanting to be alone again.

“Why don’t we all stay together,” Sam asked as he patted Red on the shoulder. “Still plenty of wrong out there that we could help correct.” He cast his eyes around the group to gauge their opinions of the idea. Goodnight shifted on the bed, adjusting his still splinted leg, before speaking.

“I would not be opposed to continue traveling with all of you, I must say I have become quite fond of all you, but Sam I think you forget one very important thing. Billy and Vasquez are both wanted men. Billy has been able to avoid detection this long only because it has just been him and I, and with my name people overlook a lot of things. The seven of us together might draw unwanted attention.” Vasquez looked down at his feet as Goodnight spoke, as if for a moment he forgot that he was a wanted man. Billy shifted slightly where he sat next to Goodnight on the bed but didn’t say anything.

“I haven’t forgotten Goody; in fact, I have already taken steps to remedy this slight problem,” Sam said calmly. The others looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to explain.

“I have sent a letter to the California’s division of warrant and peace officers, explaining everything that has happened here and circumstances around the formation of our group. As a duly sworn warrant officer and licensed peace officer when I recruited all of you, I effectively deputized you, except Goodnight who was already an officer even if he hadn’t served a warrant in many years. With the letter to the head of the California division I have asked for Billy and Vasquez to be pardoned, given that you have basically been acting as deputized officers of the state it is the least they could do. I should receive a response any day now.”

“What happens if their response is to send a posse of Marshalls here to take us away, what then jefe?” Vasquez asked. Sam met his gaze calmly.

“Then we shall smuggle you out of Rose Creek and hide you away joining you when we can. I imagine Goodnight and Billy would go back to what has kept them safe for so many years and you and Faraday would make your own way in the world. It shouldn’t have to come to that though,” Sam said with confidence.

“I do hope you are right Sam,” Goodnight said with a sigh leaning back against his pillows.“I wish you had told me you were doing this though; I trust your judgement in a lot of things Sam else I never would have followed you here, but this is a big risk.”

“What’s done is done Goody,” Billy said softly placing a hand on Goodnight’s wrist. Goodnight patted Billy’s hand and said no more. The other’s looked around in silence all seven seemingly contemplating what would come next for them.

“I’d give better odds to a couple of pardons than the impossible task we achieved here,” Faraday said suddenly, placing a hand on Vasquez’s shoulder. Vasquez offered him a weak smile in thanks, but he still looked perturbed.

\----------------------

Sam received his answer a few days later in the form of an official packet from the governor's office. The courier delivered it early one morning to the farm, he’d been spotted long before he arrived, and Sam met him on the porch. The other’s watched from the window in Goodnight and Billy’s room that they had cracked open in case they could hear anything. Sam knew they were there and pitched his voice just loud enough for them to hear, though the conversation was short.

“Bit early for a delivery,” Sam said as the stranger approached.

“I was told this was of the utmost importance and needed to be delivered no matter the hour,” the courier said as he dismounted his horse. He reached into the messenger bag at his side and pulled out a thick packet.

“And who sends you on such an errand,” Sam said taking the packet from the younger man. In the room above the porch the men gathered around the window shifted to try and see the packet, but the angle was terrible.

“I was sent from the Governor’s office, am I to assume you are Mr. Chisolm?”

“You may assume,” Sam said not unkindly. “Were you sent with any other instructions?”

“No sir, just that packet with the Governor’s compliments.”

“Well all right, here get yourself a room at the saloon and rest up before heading back to Sacramento,” Sam said handing the courier a few coins and sending him on his way with a pat to the shoulder. The courier tipped his hat in thanks and remounted the horse, the men at the window watched him ride away for a moment before the scrambled away from the window to go in search of Sam. Billy helped Goodnight stand and he hobbled out last on his crutches and slowly made his way down the stairs with Billy’s ever-present hand next to him. They found Sam still on the porch the packet open in his hands, flipping through the papers inside.

“Good morning gentlemen,” Sam said without looking up. Make yourselves comfortable while I read this.” The six men spread out on the porch Goodnight and Faraday easing down on the only two chairs on the porch. The others perched on the stairs and leaned against the porch railing. Sam read through the papers quickly, the only sound filling the morning air was the sound of birds and the occasional sound of rustling paper. They all eyed Sam expectantly as he slid the papers back into their large envelope.

“Well, Sam, are Billy and I riding out my leg be damned or did your crazy plan work?” Goodnight finally asked after the silence stretched on for several minutes.

“No one has to go anywhere. The Governor granted my request, Billy and Vasquez have been pardoned and all your field deputations have been made official. You are all licensed peace officers of the state of California,” Sam said with a smile handing the packet to Goodnight to go through. Billy didn’t really react to the news, but Vasquez looked stunned as if he never thought this could happen.

“Apparently, law officials in Sacramento have been trying to make a case against Bogue for years but evidence and witnesses keep disappearing. The Governor sees our defense of Rose Creek as case of large-scale self-defense, they are seizing all of Bogue’s remaining assets and will be sending along funds so Rose Creek can rebuild. I’ll let the mayor and the others know about that when I ride into town later today. Point is we can now make plans with no fear of old warrants and no fear of what we have done here being used against us.” As Sam finished speaking Emma came out onto the porch drying her hands on a towel. She looked around at all of them questioningly.

“You boys are up early,” she said with a soft smile.

“We were discussing what the courier had brought. The Governor answered my letter, not only are Vasquez and Billy no longer wanted men, but Rose Creek will be receiving money to rebuild,” Sam said returning her smile.

“I’m glad to hear that, you guys deserve some good news. I’ll go into town later with you to tell everyone Mr. Chisolm,” Emma smiled at them all again before turning to go back inside. “Breakfast will be ready soon if you guys are hungry.”

“Oh yes ma’am, you know Vas here he is always hungry,” Faraday said with a laugh. That seemed to shake Vasquez out of his shock he looked over at Faraday with a found look while telling him to shut up. Goodnight was looking through the papers Sam had handed him, there was a lot of information contained inside besides the pardon with Billy’s name on it. He didn’t notice the others had left until he felt hands come down on his shoulders. He glances up to see Billy looking over his shoulder at the papers Sam had handed him.

“There’s a lot here Billy, not just a couple of pardons and a letter. I think the Governor has in mind to use us to track down the worst criminals in the state of California,” Goodnight said reaching up one hand to grasp Billy’s.

“Why didn’t Sam mention it?” Billy asked.

“Ah he want’s my opinion on it, why he handed me everything. There’s good money in it Cher, it could be a good idea but ultimately, it’s a decision we will all have to make together.”

“Come inside Goody, we’ll discuss everything later,” Billy said helping Goodnight up supporting him as he adjusted the crutches under his arm. Billy took the papers and tucked them under his arm to be perused later. Goodnight followed him inside and observed his small family from the doorway of the Cullen’s dining room. He would be quite content to stay with this band of ragtag insane individuals. So long as he had Billy, Goodnight could face whatever his future held and without the looming presence of the owl the thought of the future no longer frightened him. He smiled at Billy as he looked back at Goodnight standing in the doorway, Billy returned the smile and pulled out a chair for the other man. Goodnight hobbled in listening to the conversation and laughter around him and for the first time since before the war was truly content.

**Author's Note:**

> I now understand why it can take authors a long time to post updates, formatting is a bitch. I hope you enjoyed this lovely long one-shot, if the inspiration strikes me maybe I'll continue this with another story.


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